


nothing better than the wind blowing past

by dotdotmoon



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Cooking, Domestic, Fairies, M/M, Neighbors, Neighbours to Lovers, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, best trope in the universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdotmoon/pseuds/dotdotmoon
Summary: Kyungsoo would really like to grow carrots of his own one day—but as long as Minseok has some to share, he’s not complaining.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17
Collections: MONTH 1 : MAGIC





	nothing better than the wind blowing past

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #015: Kyungsoo just wants to grow vegetables. He's not sure why all of the seeds he plants turn out to be baby fairies. Is it his garden--or the neighbour he's getting his seeds from?
> 
> title loosely taken from exo-cbx's _rhythm after summer_.
> 
> extended content notes:  
> \- a lot of food mentions. this fic is a recipe in disguise... i’m sorry ;;

Kyungsoo's nothing if not prepared. He's brought more of the jars he made into small watery nursery beds. He'd held out hope for the carrots—it just didn't sound comfortable, growing up inside of one—but after loosening the soil with his garden knife, he recognises the wiggle into his hand when he gently pulls at the greens of the first one.

One carrot fairy harvest later, the strangely round roots now all floating in jars on the bathroom window sill, he finds himself in front of his neighbour's door. Kyungsoo's pressed the doorbell before he realises his flannel shirt is damp with sweat. He doesn't mind the dirt that settled onto his hands like it belongs, or that he's still wearing his grandparent's big torn sunhat to shield him from the autumn sun, pulled out of a corner of the shed and beaten against his thighs a few times to rid it of dust. But walking into Minseok's house smelly like this feels—

"Kyungsoo, hello," Minseok says with one of his lopsided smiles, as if Kyungsoo's visit was a pleasant surprise, not a predictable occurrence. He's wearing a plain blue apron over a sweater, sleeves bunched up at his elbows, long gloves sticky with something, and holding his hands up as if he pried the door open using an elbow.

"Sorry to interrupt,” Kyungsoo says, hesitates. He calls everyone else in advance, but Minseok had asked that he drop by unannounced. He’d laughed in response to his worry of intruding, told him he’d just not open the door if Kyungsoo came at an inconvenient time. Kyungsoo’s faced a door remaining locked twice since although Minseok had been home, soothing his worries that Minseok was simply too polite for his own good. “Do you happen to have some jars for me? And carrots."

Minseok's eyes widen. "Again?" he asks, with a shake of his head. "Mine turned out just fine."

He invites Kyungsoo inside, and when Kyungsoo stands back up from unlacing his shoes, leaving them and the soft dirt that hasn't yet crusted around them on the stairs outside, a pair of white slippers is waiting for him in the hallway. Little bear faces with pompom-like ears at their sides stare up at him as he fits his feet into them. The basket with plain guest slippers and thick socks with soles sewn on them still sits next to Minseok's shoe rack, he finds, full as always.

His heart wants to skip a beat, but Kyungsoo won't let it. Minseok's a sociable person, half the village seems to pass through his house on a busy day—it’s not unlikely he ordered dozens of personal slippers for everyone, or that the ones Kyungsoo’s wearing had seen other feet before his.

"Stay for a cup of yuja tea? Junmyeon brought quinces earlier, I should finish this up first," Minseok asks from where he's standing at the counter when Kyungsoo finds his way to the kitchen. He’s elbow deep in a big bowl, turns around long enough to catch Kyungsoo’s nod, to direct him to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “There’s a fairy in the bathroom sink,” he explains.

“You still have the fairy I gave you weeks ago?” Kyungsoo asks as he soaps his hands up, scrubs at the dirt under his fingernails. They’re so short he won’t completely get rid of the fine black line without a brush, but he’s always figured washed dirt was only half as bad as unwashed dirt.

“Sit,” Minseok tells him when he’s dried his hands, and Kyungsoo chooses the chair facing the stove. He knows Minseok likes the view out of the window, likes following the movements of all creatures passing through the garden throughout the day. “It kept growing out of the jars.”

Kyungsoo laughs, tempted to see the fairy for himself. “It’s a squash, it’ll keep growing to the size of a seal if you let it. Just drain it and let it sit on a towel in the evening sun, it’ll hatch and fly off quicker than you can blink.”

“Tomorrow,” Minseok says.

Kyungsoo gets it. It’s hard not to get attached to the fairies, their murmuring under the skin of the fruit they grow in, their chatter when they’re close to breaking through.

Minseok’s back at the chopping board, dividing a quince into four before he removes the seeds, cuts the quarters into thin slices. His knife is moving quickly, meticulously, to Kyungsoo’s surprise—Minseok admitted to mostly surviving on meals he traded small favours for, told him he’d survived on undercooked rice, sauce mixes and frozen vegetables for most of his adult life.

“Looks like cooking to me,” Kyungsoo points out. He’s a little too warm although Minseok’s house is cool, shaded by one of the biggest trees in the area. Maybe it’s the slippers with their thick soles, with the small bears, their expression expectant when he peeks at them below the kitchen table.

“It’s just mogwa-cheong,” Minseok says as he’s adding more of the quince looking suspiciously like julienne strips to the bowl, then some more of the brown sugar. “I used to help out in the kitchen a lot when we made preserves. I can handle a knife but nothing else.”

Kyungsoo hums, thinks of the last evening they’d spent with some other neighbours. Minseok flitted about the kitchen, always a clean rag at hand to wipe any spills, folding away any recycling, washing dishes so quickly Kyungsoo could barely recall using them. He’s going to have to come forward about wanting to hold Minseok’s hands sooner or later—but the heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of sharing the space at the counter, trading knives with warm handles and vegetables, cutting boards, wet rags to trap them on back and forth, matches the one of the mug placed in his hands.

He’s sure Minseok doesn’t only bend hearts like his but also time, watches on as he moves around the kitchen like water in the disguise of a person, despite the giant slippers, strange paws Kyungsoo can’t place.

“How do you walk in these?” Kyungsoo asks, blowing at the hot tea.

“The Snorlax slippers? Oh, it’s my favourite pokemon. And I like learning something cute every day,” Minseok replies. He’s back to mixing the sugar-quince mass while boiling several glass jars, before he sets them on a laid-out towel, pulls off the gloves and starts spooning the mass into them. 

Kyungsoo knows better than to try take a sip, takes a small risk instead to burn his tongue on. “Suits you well.”

“What does?”

“Learning something cute every day.”

When Minseok turns around, after ducking into a cabinet to get cling wrap, there’s a small smile on his face, content, like he’s a cat that got the cream it wanted. “New, not cute” he says, “I like learning new things.”

Kyungsoo—he feels exposed, although he knows there’s barely anything to be flustered over. He wonders if Minseok’s smile fills the jars he’s covering with cling wrap before twisting the lids on, a drop of sunshine to the sugared quinces. He hides his own into the yuja tea, between sips of it.

“Embarrassed?” Minseok eventually asks, wiping his hands on the apron when he’s lined the jars up, oozing gold in the light of the late midmorning.

“A little,” Kyungsoo admits, standing up to follow Minseok to the kitchen door where he hangs the apron. “Bearably so.”

“Hold this for me,” Minseok asks, and Kyungsoo reaches out before he’s looking, reaches with searing intent when he does, his hand meeting Minseok’s.

Minseok holds on to him for a moment that spins eternity into a speck of dust, firm and gentle, and when Kyungsoo blinks, they let go, the expired magic settling on them like soot.

“Count those 100 days for me?” Minseok nods at the jars—but Kyungsoo’s long forgotten those by the time he walks home, heart full and enough carrots to jam his fridge drawers.

**Author's Note:**

> \- if you like cooking videos with no talking/music, i really enjoyed [this one](https://youtube.com/watch?v=ybHZbkv-72s) (they’re making mogwa-cheong!!)  
> \- [minseok's snorlax slippers](https://www.asakura-japan.com/product/10510)  
> \- [kyungsoo's bear slippers](https://www.modishbuy.com/slippers/cute-bear-slippers-slip-on-fluffy-animal-slippers-for-women-and-men-bear-slippers-in-4-colors.html)
> 
> do they have magic powers?? what’s minseok’s deal with time? vegetable fairies?? we don’t know... and maybe we don't need to.
> 
> thank you for reading this!! please do let me know if you liked it


End file.
